


Everything about you

by prototyping



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Prompt Fic, UST, quick fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29332116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prototyping/pseuds/prototyping
Summary: Dimitri has come to the realization that Byleth never looks as lovely as she does after a fight.[Written for the Dimileth Hot Flash prompt “adrenaline rush after a battle.”]
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 5
Kudos: 103
Collections: Dimileth Hot Flash





	Everything about you

Perhaps it’s the lingering thrill of battle or his still-pounding pulse heightening his senses or simply the relief of finding her alive and well, but Dimitri has come to the realization that Byleth never looks as lovely as she does after a fight.

Even as she sheds her coat to reveal fresh bruises and scrapes along her arms, each one sends a small thrill through him, some blend of admiration and pride.

“You’re staring.”

He raises his eye to find her watching him, a teasing smile playing at her mouth.

(Ah, he stands corrected: she never looks as lovely as she does when she smiles. After a battle is a close second.)

Her cheeks are still faintly flushed, her hair still damp and clinging to her forehead, her jaw. He wants to brush those strands away. He wants to feel her skin beneath his hands, hot and soft as it must certainly be.

“I am,” he agrees awkwardly, apologetically. He glances away as she moves closer, only looking back when she stops directly in front of him, her arms crossed behind her back.

“You look like you have something to say.” It’s the same expectant tone she once used as his teacher. Perhaps it awakens his old habit of respecting her authority, or that young schoolboy’s desire to please, because he blurts,

“You were magnificent today.” The words are quiet, almost reverent.

Her mouth quirks and he knows he’s staring again. “You told me,” she reminds him.

“I spoke of your tactical ability before. Truly, I’m convinced you’re the only one who could help us take the Silver Maiden without a single casualty.” The dismissal comes easily in the form of his usual straight-laced and _business first_ manner of speech, but he’s well aware that Byleth has taken a small step forward, that she’s close enough for him to feel the heat of her body through his undershirt. Or perhaps he’s imagining what it feels like.

“What do you speak of now?” she wonders. Her tone is still that of a teacher expecting an answer. He’s not sure if it’s a sign to rein in his thoughts, but it does the exact opposite. This isn’t the first time she’s looked at him like this recently—he can only describe it as _playfully intense_ , her piercing and attentive gaze contrasting her easy smile and relaxed shoulders—but he’s never been sure what to make of it. He still isn’t sure, not completely, but the part of him that stared so brazenly at her suddenly feels even bolder. It feels like taking a chance.

“Really, Professor? You would pretend you don’t know what watching you in battle does to me? What it’s _always_ done to me?”

He meant for it to come out lighthearted, a mild tease to test the unknown waters—not in the low, rough voice that it does.

For an instant something in Byleth’s face seems to flicker. He can’t quite put his finger on it.

Her steady tone betrays nothing. “How could I? You never told me.” Her head tilts a curious fraction and it probably shouldn’t make him feel the way he does, like he would fight the enemy’s army all over again for the chance to run his fingertips along that gentle curve of her jaw.

“A man would have to be blind not to think your skill is lovely. The way you move is…”

“What exactly are you looking at when you watch me? My sword?”

It’s clearly meant to tease, but Dimitri’s answer is earnest.

“Everything.”

The speed of her strikes, the grace of her movements, her calm confidence, the fire in her eyes, the absolute savagery in her killing blows on the occasion that she’s angry—the stark contrast of an enemy’s blood on her lovely skin—

His pulse quickens.

“Everything?” she repeats. Her smooth brow furrows and he can’t tell if it’s exaggerated. “It sounds like I’m distracting you in battle. That’s dangerous.”

“No,” Dimitri corrects gently. “You are... inspiring. A reminder that I need not lose myself in the midst of death and despair. I believe being near you on the battlefield helps keep me grounded, and my head on straight.” He looks over her face—not in admiration this time, but consideration. “I’m grateful.”

Her smile softens, understanding. She’s doing the same thing, studying his face thoughtfully. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. I don’t think you need me to help you with that anymore.”

Her breath is warm on his skin. He’s not sure when he took that half-step closer, or when he leaned forward.

“Perhaps not as much as before. But even if I don’t always need you... I want you.”

The implication of those words hits him an instant too late. He doesn’t shy away from the surprise in her eyes.

For an instant she looks almost self-conscious, but then her smile is _that_ one, the warm and vulnerable one he loves most.

“I would say you already have me,” she murmurs. Her breath feels warmer, closer. “And... you also have terrible timing.”

She steps back without warning, a quick twist turning her away from him at the same time that he hears heavy footsteps in the hallway. When the door opens a moment later, Byleth is collected and casual and listening to the soldier's report with concentrated interest. 

Confused and a little dazed, Dimitri struggles to pay attention as words are exchanged. Any hope of speaking with her immediately is dashed when she starts to take her leave after the soldier—but the way she pauses at the door long enough to throw him one last smile is promising.


End file.
